Stitching Patches
by still oblivious
Summary: Rachel Berry forgets, no matter how much she wants to remember, everything after an accident. She runs off to New York to find a fresh start, but what happens when she finds there one Quinn Fabray claiming to be her flatmate?
1. one: cutting threads

one: cutting threads

* * *

_Cut what holds you down._

* * *

A question rings heavily in the air.

It was directed towards her, but she doesn't have the answer. She should, though; given that she had three months to think of it.

Everything is so perfect, she thought. But how can everything be _nothing_ at the same time? It is perfect; the room is filled with flowers of lilacs and roses, she's wearing the prettiest gown in town made by hand, and the people she loves are in near-complete attendance. It was the wedding she's ever dreamed of, and in front of her is the husband she has always asked for.

But she can't answer the question. She can't say those two words.

She's standing stiffly, her heart racing, her mind running away from the moment. She's terrified. Her looks were practically begging someone to stand up and stop the wedding this very instant.

She needs _someone_ to take her away.

If only he could notice the look on her face, then he probably wouldn't be having that blinding smile plastered to his face. He's so caught up in the moment to actually see her right now, God – he's so blind. But he's looking at her with those serene eyes that are urging her to say those two words that will bind them forever.

It's like there's a big flashing sign saying 'JUST SAY YES' urging her to answer the goddamn question. It's like there's a marquee that says 'MARRY ME' and is raised on the highest building in Lima. It's like someone proposed to her during a half-time break of an NBA game, in the centre of the arena filled with thousands of people screaming at her to _just take the fucking ring and marry the man because it's cute and he's cute_. It's like words are written in the sky and fireworks are forming her name just after her favourite band finished performing in their concert. It was supposed to be easy to say those two words, right? But right now, it's like marriage is just a stupid grand gesture and nothing more. And the worst part is it requires an answer she can't give. She doesn't want to disappoint the audience, but she can't disappoint herself either. Grand gestures are sweet, but the girl standing in front of the altar right now thinks that it's only done by people that are doubtful of how their partner will respond when they pop the question so they pressure them into saying 'yes' with their grand schemes and big words.

She looks around the crowd only to see them turning their heads to whisper to one another. Her unresponsiveness stirred a commotion. It's nauseating how judgemental people can be. Why are they even here? Half of them she doesn't even know because they're probably from the groom's family. Her loved ones doesn't even occupy one fourth of the crowd. The other one fourth? Complete strangers – probably just waiting on how she'll mess it all up. Well, that's the crowd she won't be disappointing today.

Only two people seems calm and unmoving – _her dads_. They're grasping each other's hands tightly for anchor while looking at her, urging her to make a choice. Do they want her to say yes? Or do they want her to walk down that aisle and run away? What do they want her to do? _What does she want to do? _And why wasn't she born with some telepathic ability because she could really use one right now?

A tug in her hands, clasped by a pair of bigger ones, brought her back to the present. "Do you want to be with _me_, Rach? For the rest of our lives?" He asks her with hopeful eyes, still not sensing the doubt in hers. She didn't know that love could make someone this blind.

She opens her mouth and urges words to come out. "I –" But she can't and she feels like crying. She feels caged and she hates it. She hates that she feels this way because she loves this guy, she's in love with this guy – _they_ said that she always has been.

She shuts her eyes closed, and a tear falls. She tries to remember if she really loved him. She searches for memories, she searches for feelings, and she searches deeply until she finds it - a glimpse of her memories and feelings in the past. Her heart was suddenly filled with joy and happiness, of love. The memories came flooding in one by one. They're not concrete, but they're _there. _There are so many of them yet only a few she can remember. She was in love. Her face lights up but her eyes still closed. She searches further and looks for a face. She wants to know if the person standing in front of her right now is the one she has all these feelings for – but she found no face tangible in her memories that's enough to complete the puzzle in her head. And when she opens her eyes, she finds nothing similar to her bare memories at all. There's nothing that resembles what she felt from what she feels right now - which is shit. Love shouldn't make you feel like shit, right? "I'm so sorry, Finn. I'm so sorry." Tears now freely fall from her eyes. "I don't."

And with that she runs away – walks down the aisle and opens the doors and for the first time since the wedding started, she can finally _breathe_.

It is chaotic inside. Everyone's asking each other what happened: Was there a third-party? Was she pregnant? Assumptions like those came out of nowhere, really. Gossips will start to roam around town now and it'll probably last for weeks - years even – until people get the answers they want. But until then, gossips will do. It'll fill people's mouth and feed them something to talk about. Everyone enjoys a good gossip. Everyone's got a say in everything. But no one really cares – at least not the people that _really _know her.

No one wonders what it would be like to be the groom right now. No one even dares talk to him while he's standing there, looking at the space that was occupied by his bride seconds ago. It is empty space now, and he doesn't know what to think of it. He closes his eyes and breathes heavily, and when he opens them, it is burning with nothing but pure determination.

He'll go after her. He will, because it's the right thing to do. Because they love each other, and they're meant to be, and Rachel's just going through a phase.

Coming from a stranger's point of view, or hell, to anyone with a sane mind's point of view, their relationship was never an ideal one. It was built in impure want, fear, and lies. It was a teenage love affair. It was never meant to last. But they made each other believe that they wanted for it to be forever, and who's to argue with that? Who inside this room has the reason to stand up against it? No one. No one _here._

Because the only person who may have some motivation to break off this wedding is nowhere near _here_ right now.

"Dude, _no_." His best man who's tightly gripping his arm says, making him stop in his tracks to following his bride. "Don't break your heart more than it already is, man. Talking her into marrying you is just plain stupid."

"She's just confused, right now." He says, though he's confused just as much.

"You don't even know half of what's going through inside her mind. _No one _does. Give her time and space, and I know it hurts, man. But she's hurting too, more than any of us can probably imagine." Puck says.

And that's enough for Finn to let her go – let her _go_ and find what she wants. But he's still hoping - God, how he is and will forever be hoping that it's _him_ that she comes back to someday. A tear falls from his eyes but he doesn't wipe it off.

The commotion inside makes Leroy and Hiram cringe, not because of the loud voices but because of what they say. They're all hurtful and wrong in every way. How dare they say things like that when they don't even know half of what's going on?

"Should we follow her?" Leroy asks, still unmoving from his seat.

Hiram stands up before he can even reply, "We probably should."

They're the only ones that followed Rachel outside. It didn't take them too much effort to look for her since she's just slumped down a couple of steps outside the chapel – like her knees gave in even before her feet can touch the bottom of the stairs.

"You're going to ruin your dress if you'll sit there all day, honey." Leroy helpfully starts, settling beside her while Hiram sits on her other side. They don't know what's going on with their daughter right now, but they trust her enough to make her decide on her own.

Rachel smiles and sighs before she wipes off the tears that ruined her make-up. She looks at the ground in surrender. "I probably ruined _the whole wedding _by walking out of that door minutes ago, dad." She says, then adds, "Trust me when I say that this dress is the least of what I'm worried right now."

"I know, little girl." He clutches his daughter's hands that were neatly folded in her lap, then jokingly adds, "It's just that this is hand-stitched, you know, and –"

It's not really the dress. It's just that no one feels like talking about what's happening or what will eventually happen so they try to hold it back just a little more time. But Rachel can't take it anymore -

"I'm sorry, I'm so – so sorry." Rachel suddenly burst, crying in his father's chest while his dad was left to do nothing but soothe her back.

"It's really okay, honey, it's just a dress." Hiram says.

Rachel chuckles and suddenly she's thinking of how thankful she is that she has these two people in her life. They just make it all better, somehow. "Not only that, but I mean – everything." She sighs and releases her tight grip on his father. She looks at herself then says, "I'm a mess, aren't I?"

"Just a little smudge of make-up in here", Leroy moves his thumb to clear the dark smudges made by her mascara then says, "but you're still beautiful, honey."

She mouths a weak thanks and then turns into his other father, Hiram, and hugs him just as much as she did Leroy. Then there's a small silence; and in a way she wishes it will somehow channel her love to these two wonderful people.

"Spare us a piece of what's going on in that wicked mind of yours?" Hiram says after Rachel let go of her tight grip.

"I want to get so drunk that I'll pass out, or hell, even die of alcohol poisoning so that I don't have to wake up anymore.", is what she wants to say but instead says, "I don't – really _know_. It's just that I feel like I'll combust into tiny pieces of nothingness if I'm not somewhere else that is not here, right now. I – does that make sense?" She frowns in concentration then shakes her head because even to her, it doesn't.

The silence was tense; it holds too much. She doesn't even know what she wants, yet. But she needs to decide now and regret later because too much time was already wasted and she really doesn't want to waste some more.

"It does, honey. Don't worry about us. We understand what you mean, although we don't completely understand what's going on just as much as you do." He says as he slowly strokes her cheeks, drying up the lingering tears.

"It just doesn't feel _right_. I feel awful. I feel awful for breaking Finn's heart and disappointing all the people in there and I just – God. I want to do something for Finn because he's been such a great guy as far as I can remember and I thought that accepting his marriage proposal for the second time would do everyone good, but I – I can't lie. I can't do that to myself." She admits, but the awful feeling just really doesn't go away. It probably won't - for at least, oh let's say _her whole life_ - no matter how much she wishes that it does.

"You don't believe that you love him?" Leroy asks, "Because if you do, you wouldn't have doubted, honey."

"That's the problem, I don't. I – I closed my eyes and tried to remember how in love I was before and when I opened them it felt that it's not him. Maybe it's not the same Finn that I used to be in love with or maybe it's just a whole other person but – _God_ – it's so frustrating that I can't remember a thing." Rachel tries to speak clearly but she can't stop her crying.

"Then it's not _him _that you're in love with, little girl. I'm sure he'll understand.. someday. Maybe not today, or maybe not tomorrow, but he'll forgive you someday. And you should forgive yourself too." Hiram says.

"I can tell that it's not the only thing bothering you, honey. Come on, you can open up to us – _especially_ to us." Leroy adds.

She tries to collect her bearings and says, "Isn't it a little bit selfish that I'm using this as an excuse to just lash out?" She scoffs to herself.

"Everything in your head is messed up, Rachel. I think that's a pretty much acceptable reason for you to lash out." Leroy says, giving her just enough boosts to open up.

"I can't even describe how much pain I feel every time I wake up, feeling so empty because nothing feels like it is how it's supposed to be – everything: Being with him, being here in Lima." And just when she thinks that she can't cry any more, her eyes blur once again as tears fall. "I can't - I don't even _think_ that being alive is what I'm supposed to be right now."

"Don't you dare think like that, Rachel!" Hiram says with panic, because who the hell won't panic when your daughter tells you that she's pretty much suicidal? "None of that accident was your fault. She – no one blames you, honey. Don't blame yourself."

"Then whose fault was it, daddy?" Rachel asks. It was mostly a rhetorical question because she knows there's really no answer to that. "You can't even answer me. You can't even tell me a damn thing about what happened that day!"

"We thought you understand –" Leroy says.

"I do, dad. I really do understand that you're doing this – everything – to save me from more pain. I just don't think that I can _accept _it anymore." Rachel shakes her head mostly in submission and hurt rather than of stubbornness and anger.

Her fathers look like they're on the verge of tears as well. One of them says, "We can't, Rachel."

"Why? Give me the real reason this time." She begs and pleads that it's the truth that they'll tell her this time.

"Because we promised someone that we won't." Hiram admits.

"And this person is more important than your own daughter, huh?" Rachel asks then sighs.

"This person's very important to you, Rachel." Leroy adds. "But you – you don't remember _anything _about this person at all. Just think of how much that hurts, to be forgotten by someone you.. care for."

The pause is long, and it's enough for that fact to sink in. She really thinks that there's not enough water in her body to compensate for the tears she's losing today.

"Everything will be given to you in time, honey. You just have to wait. And if it doesn't, then maybe that's for the best, right?" Hiram says, and she tries to cope in his sentiments. She really does.

"I – I won't wait for it. There's so much time lost from mourning. I want to move on, move past this." She says like she's also convincing herself of that fact. She nods to herself and continues, "And I know this is pretty much a reckless decision for me but would you understand if I want to leave Lima?"

"Honey, if there's one thing we regret, it's that we stopped you from doing what you wanted in the first place." Leroy lowly says.

"I want – I want to go to New York." She claims. She smiles because for the first time after the long moment of just crying, she's actually thought of doing something rather than just letting herself sink some more, every passing day. If only she's thought of that three month ago, she'd probably not be here in Lima right now, crying her eyes out because she's broken someone's heart. God knows how many more she already has.

Her smile makes her fathers smile as well. They look at each other and nods in agreement – like they've known that this would eventually happen.

"If that's what you want, Rachel, then we'll support you all throughout. There's no reason for us not to. Leroy?" Hiram says and points his head towards Rachel, like he's saying that it's his turn to say something. The gesture made Rachel confused.

"What is it?" Rachel asks, turning his head to Leroy.

"See, little girl. New York _was_ your dream." Leroy says.

"Was." Rachel mumbles. "What changed?"

"Your mind changed. We think your mind got a little bit shaken too much after.. the accident. And you never mentioned New York, not even once. And we thought –" Leroy carefully explains but Rachel's mumbles stops him in continuing.

".. you thought I forgot. There's actually only a few that I can remember about it. It's – there's – " Rachel's eyes light up at the memories she's starting to remember, she ignores the pain throbbing in her head and just craves for more. She wants it all. She wants to remember it all.

Hiram tries to supress his snooping but fails miserably. Rachel's going through therapy which promises that she'll be able to regain memories somehow, but she's never talked about it _directly_ with her parents.

"Just how much, honey?" Leroy asks.

"I, I applied in a school there, right? NYADA? But I don't know if –"

"You got accepted, honey. What else?"

"We'll celebrate later."

"And even if I wasn't even accepted yet, I think we looked for an apartment near the university. And – "

"Yes, and we've rented it already."

"Wait, what?" It just makes Rachel plainly confused. "You _rented_ the place even if you know that I was going to marry Finn?"

"Well – yes. Because, you know, who knows maybe, I don't know, maybe you'll happen to want to visit New York someday.. with Finn of course.. and that you won't need to stay in a hotel or something." Leroy's never really a smooth liar.

"So you decided to pay a monthly rent? No, really, I want the truth, dad." Rachel says with the need of vindication.

"Okay so maybe we kind of knew that you won't go through the wedding and –" Hiram admits and before he can even try to explain, Rachel's already up and heading towards their car.

"Oh. My. God." Rachel blankly says.

"Rachel! Honey, see, it works for all of us, right?" Leroy shouts while they both follow and tries to keep up with Rachel's phase.

It's the thought that she could actually be _somewhere _other than Lima right now that excites her. "I love you so much; you have no idea how much, like this much!" She gestures her hands to circle just how much her arms can reach. "I love you both, you should really know that."

"Wait, you're not angry?" Hiram cautiously asks.

"Maybe a little bit but it'll go away." Rachel's emotion right now is indescribable, but her face settles with what looks like a bit crazily happy but mostly, determined. "I want to go there, like right now."

"Like, right now right now? Not like right now maybe tomorrow-after-we-pack-stuff-and-say-goodbye-to-your-friends kind of right now?" Leroy tries, unbelieving of how Miserable Rachel turned into this Eccentrically-Energetic Rachel. Does she even realize that she had _just _called off a wedding merely thirty minutes ago? But they've never seen her this happy, and neither wants to snap her back into reality – pop the bubble she's currently trapped into and drag her down from her high. Not one of them has the guts to disagree with her anymore.

Their hesitation somehow bothers Rachel for a second, making her stop in front of their car.

"I – I'll just call Santana and the glee club sometime. I don't even know what to tell Finn. I'm sorry, if I scared you for a second there. We can go tomorrow. I just – I _really _feel like New York's where I'm supposed to be right now." Rachel calmly says.

"We know, honey."

"Do you really, though?" She asks. It's not filled with anger; it's a question that challenges them to say the truth. The truth that neither of them really understands. "You have no idea how hard it is to wake up every day feeling lost, like I have no idea of anything anymore. It sucks. And I think it is very much unfair." She stops herself, breathes heavily to hold back the tears that are about to spill, and continues, "I think it's unfair that _this _happened to me. But I'm done trying to remember the past. I don't want to try and remember what used to be because no one really wants to remind me of all the shit I went through before. So how about I just create something new? In New York - I'll start again in New York." She sighs so deep like the last straw has just been drawn from her and that she surrenders. She doesn't want to fight anymore. She just wants to feel something again.

Neither Hiram nor Leroy has a response to that. With one glance towards each other and they both understand. Leroy opens the back seat of the car just as Hiram holds Rachel's shoulders and gently shoved her at the back of the car, then says, "We're not letting you drive. Sit back there and we'll do the rest. We'll take you to New York in no time, honey."

Hiram starts the engine and drove towards their house, while Leroy sits beside their daughter. Not one of them remembers the mess they left in the chapel, and instead, just drinks in the feeling of being overwhelmed with the possibilities to come... in New York.

"So New York, huh?" Leroy asks, clutching Rachel's hands in her lap.

"Yeah." She breathes the word because the thought alone is very much overwhelming. She's still in her bride's dress for crying out loud.

"What makes it so special?" His father asks while he looks at the window.

The question caught her off guard. She hasn't thought about that at all. There's just something about New York.. that calls her. She feels like it summons her, no matter how stupid that sounds. Although, now that she thinks about it, the thought of actually going _anywhere that is not Lima _would probably excite her either way. "I don't really know." She admits.

Leroy lets it go because he knows that she still doesn't remember it _all_ – how it's always been her dream_. _"Tell me how much you remember in your apartment-hunting trip there." He taunts.

"Leroy.." Hiram calls him warningly.

Rachel waves him off, showing that it's _okay_ to ask questions because she thinks that it'll help her remember. Little does she know that _that's _not what his father is referring to.

"All I can remember is that I had a great time. I was happy. Somehow, I was content." It's Rachel's turn to look through the window and let her gaze focus into nothing at all. She smiles, "Maybe New York's really where I belong, huh?"

Leroy nods and guardedly says, "Don't you think that maybe, just maybe, it's the people you were with that made you happy and content?" He shrugs it off to hide the real meaning of his question.

She took the question as humorous and ridiculous, so she replies, "Of course I was happy I was with both of you. Although I don't remember much, I'm sure that I wouldn't have enjoyed it as much as I _had _without you two." She seems so sure of her answer, yet she feels like there's something wrong with what she just said. It makes her unconsciously frown. Her head hurts so badly, she feels like her skull's being broken in half. Then there's that _feeling_ again that makes her sick, she knows that she's forgetting something and it makes her feel terrible - more than how the headache makes her feel.

The silence is unnerving as Leroy and Hiram fights the urge to say something, because they _know_ that things will somehow fit to pieces again. Their tongues itch to just let the word slip, but they believe that gravity will somehow work its own way to bringing everything back together the way it was. They both believe that God has his own set of needles and thread and has massive skills in stitching patches together and will someday see that there are two scrap fabrics out there that will perfectly fit together.

It sounds stupid, but that's exactly what they are for believing in what they do.

New York probably means a new start to Rachel, but little does she know that it might bring her something else: a closure to what was finished, or a continuation of what was left undone, or maybe – just maybe – a complete reset of what has completely gone wrong.

* * *

_Author's Note: This is my very first story. It's my first time to write something that I eventually decided to publish. Tell me what you think about the story, what you feel like I should do, or tips on how to improve my writing. I'll take everything as constructive as I can. I'll update every week! Or at least I'll try._


	2. two: threading a needle

two: threading a needle

* * *

_It's always the hardest part, somehow._

* * *

Their trip to New York wasn't that long. The wait was amenable. _Waiting is inevitable if you really want something_, Rachel thought. In fact, thinking was all she's done for the twelve hours of sitting her butt off.

Her conversation with Finn didn't go well. Before they hit the road, Finn _begged _her to at least bid each other goodbye. They were left alone in the living room, but Leroy and Hiram didn't miss one bit of the conversation. They convinced themselves that it wasn't prying. There's not much crying, really – mostly just hearts silently breaking some more. Then awkward silence when they realized that there's nothing else to do but just hug each other goodbye.

"I'll call you later?" Rachel unsurely murmured in his chest.

"Don't, Rach." Finn sighed as he slowly pushed her, giving them enough space. "Don't promise something you'll do for your own reasons, because you know that it's not how I want it to be. You'll call me to check up on me if I'm doing okay and stuff, but I don't want you to call because of _that_. I want you to call me when – when you feel like you want me in your life again."

It made Rachel gaze at the floor, because she knew that it won't probably happen anytime soon.

"Call Puck when you really need help in something. He'll tell me." Finn said, probably realizing as well that what he really wanted won't happen anytime soon – maybe not at all.

They've talked enough. They should go before they say too much they won't be able to take back.

"Goodbye, Finn."

"Bye, Rach."

The sun is setting when they arrive. The apartment building is Victorian inspired with a touch of modern. Or maybe the other way around. But who cares? It's beautiful and it's her place and looking at it is like breathing fresh air.

She rattles the keys in her hands and then opens the door leading to the first floor. She looks back and all she sees are smiles flashing from both her fathers. They head upstairs, to the third floor, where she opens a white door using the key with a star on it. It's beautiful. Her parents made the perfect choice. _Although, the modern style doesn't really sound like something they'd prefer_, she thought. Maybe it was her choice, but whatever.

She drops her baggage on the floor and happily skips through rooms while her fathers just look at her in amusement. They're just as enamoured as she is, actually.

The place is too wide for one person. There are two rooms. The one with boxes filled with her stuff from Lima that she will later on unpack is her room, obviously. The whole apartment is furnished with sharp, modern, and sophisticated fixtures. The stark interior and sophisticated furniture are lightened up by fun flowers in a bright pink and of bright tulips, making the overall look less hard and more approachable. It's hers alone. Then suddenly, she's taken aback, afraid at the thought of being alone. She turns around towards her dads and the realization hit her – hard.

She'd have to say goodbye to them, too.

"I want to eat dinner outside. Maybe in that restaurant around the corner?" She suggests, thinking of ways to make good use of her last hours with her fathers for this month at best.

"Sure. Let's go." They say in unison.

The dinner went well. Once they stepped outside, they were all in awe of the city's bright lights. Her father needed to go home as soon as possible and Rachel has never hated his profession as much as she does right now. They should be out and exploring the city together. And since it's not safe to let Hiram go and drive alone for twelve hours, she has to pretend that she's fine to be alone and ask for Leroy to go with his father.

"I'll be fine, dad. I wanted this, so I better get myself used to – well – being alone, I guess." Rachel says.

"Okay. But honey, you know that we really want to stay, right? I'm sorry. We'll visit sometime within this month, we promise." Leroy replies.

After saying their goodbyes and I love yous, Rachel closes the door with a deep sigh. And when she hears the engine start outside, she closes her eyes and wills for her tears to stop from falling. She heads towards the bathroom, turns on the faucet, and just drowns her tears with water.

There's this feeling at the pit of her stomach that screams regrets. But she wanted this – she wants this. And sometimes when you want something, you need to let go of something you already have. She needs to let go of her past, to be able to grasp a future. And now that she has her future in front of her, she doesn't really know how to start. She wishes that this new life has some sort of manual, or most preferably, a tour guide.

Tomorrow, she – well. She doesn't really have a plan for tomorrow yet. Maybe she'll stay home? Oh, and she really needs to call Santana. And Kurt. But he's probably already heard of the news that she's in NY through his brother. So everybody must have already heard it then. God – she needs some coffee. All of the thinking's making her anxious. Then she starts thinking that maybe she shouldn't have left Lima like that, or that she shouldn't have left at all.

She's too drowned in the sound of the shower to hear the rustling sound of the door opening and closing. It's so discreet, though, that she probably won't hear it any way.

Footsteps sound through the living area, a brief pause, and then keys clatters on the table.

Rachel closes the shower when she hears the faint sounds. _Her fathers must have come back,_ she thought. But of course, she can't help but be a little paranoid, so she quickly dries her hair with a towel and then wraps her body with another one. She heads towards her room then panics when she sees her door's not locked. She hurriedly strolls towards it but it swishes open and her heart beats so fast that it was like all hell broke loose.

Well, if the screams are any indication.

She screeches in surprise, her hands immediately grasping onto the towel that's barely hiding anything, when she sees a lean blonde girl holding onto the knob of her door.

They're both screaming, actually.

She really can't screech as high as the brunette in front of her, so she just screams. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!" Her heart's really going wild right now. _This can't be fucking happening, _she thought.

They screeched and screamed all the while staring at each other.

All this happened for the mere five seconds before the door closes in front of each other's face. Neither of them knows who pushed or pulled it closed. Neither of them knows that they're still facing each other, both breathing hard, and could have been still looking at each other's eyes if only there's no door between them.

Neither of them really needs to know any of that.

"Who are you?"

"What are you doing here?"

They both scream at the same exact time. It is so simultaneous and so synchronized that it should have been scary if only they gave it a thought. The only difference is that Rachel screamed it with complete fear, clutching her hands in her heart, while the other barely whispered it, pressing her forehead in the closed door and hitting it with her closed fist in frustration.

Rachel grips the knob, deciding on whether to open it or lock it. But she's pretty much naked if not for the towel, so she goes for the lock.

"Answer me first! I said who are you?" Rachel screams from the other side of the door.

The stranger sighs and collects her bearings then speaks in disbelief, "Why don't _you_ tell me who you are?"

Rachel scoffs, not amused by this stranger's humour. "I _live _here."

"Well – I live here too." She says, trying her best to keep her voice steady. She pushes herself off of the door, making her step back a few strides away from it.

It's silent while Rachel takes it in, and then says, "I'm coming out in a few minutes."

The rustling sounds inside the room can be heard outside, and the bewildered blonde could only imagine what a mess it was. She hears a ripping of tape like a box being opened, things clattering, and of course, profanities. "You know what, I should just go. I'll move out first thing tomorrow." Then she heads towards the door.

_ After she gets some ice cold water from the kitchen_, she decides.

"Wait!" She hears that very familiar voice behind her and it stops her tracks. She regrets turning around as soon as she sees Rachel on her shorts, an oversized shirt, and her hair tied in a messy bun. "What do you mean you live here?"

"Yeah." She breathes, and she swears that it almost gets hitched when she realizes that the girl's taking in her form too. Then she wishes that she wore something better instead of a lousy jacket, jeans, and her worn-out Converse. "I – I don't know. Maybe the house broker was some scam or something. Don't worry, I'll leave –"

The brunette laughs humourlessly, "What are you saying? I just got here today. _You_ should just throw me out." Rachel questioningly says. "How long have you been here?"

"Three months." She says with a straight face, hoping that she doesn't pick up – or maybe that she does.

"I'll call my dad– _parents_. I'm Rachel, by the way." She says, reaching out her hand for this stranger to shake.

But she didn't move, instead she pockets both her hands in her jacket then says, "I know."

"What do you mean?" Rachel asks, quite nervous.

She nods towards her suitcase that has the name 'Rachel' clearly written on it. Any person couldn't have missed it.

"Right." Rachel chuckles at how ridiculously flashy it is, and her laugh can almost make anyone swoon – _almost_. "I should call now – my parents, they – " She awkwardly adds.

"Yeah, you should." She just replies.

Rachel retreats to her bedroom with a nod. Right after she's out of sight, and the blonde slumps on the couch, smashes her face on a pillow, and just lets her screams and shouts flow out of her mouth incoherently.

"Do you know her name, honey?" She can faintly hear her dad through the phone. She must be on speakerphone, she thought.

"Not really, I mean – she hasn't told me yet." She bites on her lips as she waits for her fathers' response. There are low ramblings that she can't really understand.

"Can we talk to her?" Hiram finally asks.

"Okay, she's in the living room right now. So.." She explains as she walks to where this stranger is, then hands her the phone. "They want to talk to you."

The girl feels hesitant for a second, before taking it and putting it close to her ears, then says, "Hey."

Rachel doesn't really want to pry, so she contemplates on staying in the kitchen where she'll have to strain her ears to hear the conversation or just actually stay nosing in the living room. With a sigh, she settles on leaning on the door frame in between the two rooms. But then she learns that there's nothing she understands in the conversation, so she let her thoughts drift away from it.

She worries about having to move out again. It's not yet even three hours of having some sort of independence and everything is already a mess. The only positive thing that could come out of this situation is her having a new friend.

She takes in the figure of the girl sitting on the couch. _She's beautiful_, she thought, _like she has this aura around her. _And she's been here for three months: She could be the tour guide that Rachel's asked for moments ago. She looks like her age, and she seems nice so they could be friends instantly – or at least she hopes.

She shakes her head to snap herself out of thoughts because it's really starting to make her head hurt.

It's been minutes since she drifted off from the conversation so she starts to worry when she senses the suddenly tense and annoyed form of the stranger. Then her features slowly turn soft, almost sad – almost hurting.

Her eyes snaps to the blonde's dry lips as her tongue wets it, and well, she doesn't mean to gawk too long, but it's so mesmerizing that she unconsciously licks hers as well.

She freezes when she sees the stranger looking at her, catching her staring. They stare back at each for a few forevers before she hears a goodbye.

"Well? What'd they say? I hope that they didn't annoy you or anything. If so, I apologize on their behalf." Rachel says, cutting the awkward tension.

"They were fine. Your _parents_ thought that it's not really a great idea for one of us to move out." She explains. "So they suggest that we stay here until they fix everything with the broker."

"That seems like the best option right now, right?" Rachel says and sighs in relief.

"I think so." The girl unsurely replies. She sighs heavily then flashes a weak smile. "That is, if you're okay with living with me for a couple of weeks." There should have been an emphasis on the stranger part somewhere.

Rachel seems to be considering it for a few seconds before she shrugs and replies, "I wouldn't have any reason not to be okay with that, right?"

She couldn't have been any more wrong.

"I don't really know." The blonde smiles and stands up as she says, "I was told that I snore really loud. I'm kind of worried that you'll hear it from the other room." She shrugs.

Rachel laughs then smiles shyly; tucking strands of hair behind her ears, then puts her hands on her hips. "Well, I _sing_, so that's bound to be flamboyant. I guess we'll have to take turns on whom to be noisy, I'll take the daytime while yours is during the night?"

It's a playful banter of nothing, really. But it seems important; like a step to getting to know each other.

"I often need my vibes going when I paint, so I need my moments to play really loud music. And I _really_ don't think we're on the same page when it comes to genre." The stranger now walking slowly towards her says. They're cautious steps but to Rachel it was like a predator about to hunt her prey.

And there's this smirk on her face that makes Rachel feel like she's being exposed. It's all playful, and she doesn't want to ruin it so she tries to laugh but what comes out is just a helpless sound.

"I am often misjudged on that matter, actually. You might be surprised." Rachel says suddenly shying away from the blonde's gaze. She's standing a few inches away from Rachel now, and when she looks up, her brown eyes were met by hazel ones.

Then suddenly, she notices everything: her height, her hair, her lips, her eyes. She even notices her breathing, the uneven intervals between every inhale and exhale.

What she doesn't notice is the way she felt like melting under this stranger's gaze. Or the uneven intervals between her own heartbeats.

She forgets herself.

"How about we start with something less complicated?" Rachel tries to say as steady as she can, that is after she swallows the lump in her throat. "Let's start with names."

That's not really less complicated. More often than not, asking for a stranger's name is one of the hardest questions to ask. And this time, it's one of the hardest questions to answer.

"It's Quinn." She smiles, although weak, "Quinn Fabray."

Rachel's face lights up and nods. That's it. There's no hand shake, no hug, no recognition.

And it made Quinn thought of how names have never been so useless until this very moment.

* * *

_Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, the follows, and the favorites. I really don't know how you'll react to this chapter. Maybe it's not what you guys expected? I'm sorry if this will somehow disappoint you. Tell me if you have any reaction (negative or positive), and I'll try my best to do something about it. _


	3. three: problem number one

three: problem number one

* * *

_You just can't seem to actually thread the needle. You have no idea on how to start again._

* * *

The first thing that comes to her mind as soon as she opens her eyes is the thought of how to start again.

She's been asking herself this very question, but this time with more passion unlike yesterday. She feels like a big ball filled with energy ready to take over New York City. But there's nothing she feels like doing, actually. Nothing in particular.

Then she thought of Quinn.

Which makes her remember the reason why she's woken up at such an early hour. _Loud music._ She turns her head to the clock on her nightstand that reads: 8:01.

It's too early, considering the fact that she was unable to sleep well last night. She just tossed and turned for hours, with thoughts she can't really put a finger on, until she finally drifted off. She wasn't able to sleep last night, actually. She slept early morning. And how many hours was that ago? Five? She's not used to waking up this early, given that's it's summer and other than busying herself with her wedding, she used to waste her time on watching reruns of shows that only ends up making her frustrated. _For Christ's sake, just tell us how you met your goddamned wife!_

The loud music that's coming off from the other room is really starting to bother Rachel, thinking that this will be the same scenario every day. She takes in a deep breathe. Their taste in music's really going to be a problem. This song is too loud and too repetitive. It's too loud that the walls are vibrating. She can't even recognize who the artist is.

She gets up from her bed, deciding to greet the now obviously awake blonde. She knocks calmly on the door opposite her room, not even hearing her own voice. Trying a different approach, she shouts through the loud music, "Good morning, Quinn!"

There was no response though.

"Hey – I know you're awake now!" She continues, knowing that she probably sounds irritated by now, "Listen! I think the sound's too loud! Don't you think it'll wake up the neighbours?"

"I think so too!" She hears from behind her, it was so close to her ears that it startles her. When she turns around, she sees Quinn smirking.

"Oh my god!" She says, clasping her fist on the heart in shock. "Who's inside?" Rachel asks, pointing to Quinn's door.

"Oh! No one." The blonde says, opening the door for Rachel to see. "I was actually sleeping on the couch. Your screams woke me up."

Rachel's not sure if Quinn is being ridiculous or being serious right now. _Really? Her screams woke her up? Can't she hear her fucking loud music?_

Quinn walks inside and turns it off. "Yeah. Good morning." She says unsure of herself, before turning to face Rachel.

The brunette forgets her thoughts when she sees the blonde smiling - although faintly. She shyly nods as she gives back a smile, then heads back to her room.

She won't let her morning ruin her whole day, she decides. After taking a quick shower and putting on some casual clothes, she thought of cooking breakfast while Quinn's still in her room. She checks every compartment in the refrigerator for food, the cabinets, and every possible place that might contain something edible. _Well, reminder number one: Go grocery shopping._

With some strips of bacon, mustard powder, pepper flakes, lettuce leaves, tomatoes, and a couple of sliced bread, the best she can prepare is a sandwich. She cooks the bacon in a pan over medium heat as she mixes the spices. She's kind of a pro, she thought; she can do this independent thing. As she turns over the bacon, she sprinkles the spice mixture into the cooked side. After she's done this with the rest of the strips, she slices the tomatoes and lettuces swiftly. Okay, maybe not so swiftly. She just had that slight heart attack when she thought she chopped a finger off, not a big deal._ Still alive, people._

She places the lettuce and tomato on top of one sliced of bread, then the seasoned cooked bacon, and tada! She's got them a breakfast. Seconds after, the kettle sounds and she makes them a pot of coffee.

Now comes the hardest part of this friendly gesture, telling Quinn that she's made breakfast without sounding crazy or annoying or an overly-attached friend. She grips the counter then closes her eyes as she thinks of what to say. Talking to someone shouldn't make you this nervous, right?

"Hey. You made breakfast?" Rachel hears far from behind her.

_ Of course._

Quinn's got this way of sneaking up on her, always taking her by surprise. Rachel turns around and sees Quinn in a completely new look. She's wearing a dress, unlike the first time she saw her, and she looks so pretty. Not that she's not pretty yesterday, just that she looks completely different. She seems uncomfortable though.

"Yeah, I figured that we had to eat something." Rachel replies. She tries to laugh but it came out as a ragged breath. She carries the plates and places it on the dining table.

"It's bacon." Quinn says half-heartedly. She seems unimpressed and it makes Rachel nervous. _Oh god, did I do something wrong?_

"Well - yes. It seems to be the only food in this whole apartment. Wh- why? I mean, is there a problem?" Rachel says, stuttering in the process.

"I should have told you this yesterday." Quinn looks very distant as she says, "I'm actually vegan."

"Oh." Well, there goes her effort to impress Quinn. God, she even probably offended her. "I'm sorry, are you – did I offend you? I did, didn't I? I should have just asked first -" Rachel says panicky.

"No! No – it's fine. It's kind of a bummer that I won't get to taste your cooking." Quinn weakly smiles, eyeing the sandwich and mouthing the word 'yum'.

"How long have you been vegan?" Rachel asks as she puts the other sandwich in the refrigerator. She didn't see the sudden change on Quinn's stance, turning stiff and cautious. And when she turns back around to face her, there's that obvious change in the attitude – like she's shutting her off.

_ Was that too personal?_

"You don't have to answer that." Rachel quickly adds, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Do you want some?" She asks Quinn just to fill the empty silence.

"Sure."

It was blank. And it was the last she's heard from Quinn for hours.

She can't stop thinking of how Quinn seems to have completely shut her off. Maybe she's looking for another apartment right now where she can move out. Maybe she's already packing her stuff. This thought will haunt every second until she decides to actually talk to her.

How could she possibly know what's going on? She's been inside her room for hours now, talking her sadness away.

It was Kurt she's called first. And to be honest, she was kind of expecting a hurtful comment from him like how could she do something like that to his brother, so she's really surprised when the first thing that came from the other line of the phone were excited shrieks and how was it, was it fantastic, was if grand like how they thought it would be?

It took her aback for couple of seconds, because if she'll be honest with him, he'd probably end up disappointed. So she lied instead, saying that it was amazing- although that's not a complete lie. New York City is grand; it's amazing and fantastic in every sense of the word. It's just that her first day in it wasn't that spectacular. What did she expect? The whole city welcoming her? Banners hoisted up in the streets? Marquees with her name on it?

_ Will it make her sound crazy if she said maybe?_

Nevertheless, he ended up upset because he's not there to explore the city with her. They ended a call with a promise that he will visit her within the year, giving them three more months to make it happen.

The next person that she calls is Santana.

She can't say that she's surprised this time when the first words she hears are profanities.

"You better explain yourself, bitch! Not calling me and shit. You had one job, Berry, and that is to keep in touch with us and you go one day without calling or texting one of us like 'Hey, I'm still alive'." She can't really understand Spanish that well, so the rest are slurs she won't probably ever learn.

She somehow finds it funny how it shows, no matter how much she tries to hide it, that Santana actually cares, . "I'm alive, Santana. Thank you for your concern."

"Well." Santana says, sounding suddenly serious, "How is it? New York."

"It's.." Rachel doesn't really need to lie this time. "The city's amazing, really. It's just that I'm scared now. And – "

"Oh, hell no. Don't you dare chicken out on this one, Berry. I'm not always sentimental so listen carefully 'cause I'm only gonna say this once." She hears a deep breathe from the other line of the phone, and it makes her smile. She needs to brace herself, because what will come out of Santana's mouth can only either be just plain offensive or very rarely inspirational. She's hoping for the latter. "If there's one thing that our little town could someday be proud of, it's you. It's not only you with the big dreams and big plans, Rachel. We all have one, or at least most of us. But you're the only one that actually got this close to achieving it. Do this for us. For all the hopefuls from Lima, Ohio that didn't quite had the opportunity like you have now. And I know it's going to be hard, this is really hard to say too, but we're gonna be here for you, okay."

Then there's that moment that is filled with silence. It isn't awkward at all; it's just that Rachel can't believe that this is Santana – the same person that bullied and slushied her, and mainly just made her high school life a living hell for years. The other can't believe it too, that she's saying this to Rachel – probably the most annoying person she's ever met and the most talented girl she'll ever know.

"You have to admit, that's touching. You better be crying right now, Berry." Santana breaks the silence and Rachel counters it with a heart-felt laugh.

"It is. And thank you. I just wish that my first day in NYC wasn't that much of a mess." Rachel says. "There's a problem with the person that sold us this flat. She sold it to two people, so there are two of us currently living in the apartment right now. The girl talked to my fathers and they said that they'll work on it. I just don't know yet who's going to move out and who's going to keep the apartment. I mean, the best thing that probably came out from that day was that I got to meet this girl that'll hopefully be my friend or at least someone that'll explore the city with me. And to be honest right now, I feel like she's going to be neither. I mean, we met yesterday and she seemed kind of fine. But today, I don't know – something's wrong."

She tried not to end up rambling, she really did.

"There's _someone _in the apartment when you arrived." She hears Santana say half-heartedly, and it almost seems like she's not at all surprised.

"Actually -" Rachel replies quite confused with Santana's reaction. "when we got here, we didn't spend too much time checking everything so we didn't notice if someone's else. When we got back from dinner though, after my fathers left, this girl came in saying that she lives here too."

Now that she's said it out loud, something seems _off_. It should have been suspicious – the timing, the excuse, everything.

"Where are you going with this, Santana?" Rachel tries to hide the panic growing in her.

"Nothing!" Santana says then shrugs before she remembers that Rachel won't see that. "I was just asking. You shouldn't have just accepted her reasons that fast. But you said that she talked to your fathers, right? So I'm sure that there's nothing to worry about.

Rachel sighs in relief and just as quickly as panic came, it's gone. "She seems nice, okay. You'll probably like her if you met her too."

"Yeah, I doubt that."

"What?"

"I mean, I hardly like anyone so why would I like her." Santana defends quickly. "So, describe her to me."

"Well, she's pretty – like really pretty." Rachel starts. "She's blonde –"

"Oh my god." She hears Santana unbelievingly says.

"I'm not saying that she's pretty because she's blonde or – " Rachel tries to defend herself.

"No, I mean, go on." Santana says, urging her to continue. "How long is her hair?"

Rachel hesitates for a second before saying, "It's not that short but it doesn't go beyond her shoulders. Remind me again why this matters?"

"N-nothing. Maybe I could like her after all." Santana tries to sound convincing, "Her eyes?"

"They're hazel." Rachel says, like it's an ultimatum.

"Look - Rachel. I need to go. Brit asked my to call her back earlier before you called, so - bye! Take care. I'll call you later." And before she can even react, Santana has already ended the call.

She can't help but think of how confused that conversation left her - even more confused than before. She called to take her mind off of Quinn, but instead it just made it even more impossible to think of anything else but her.

This Quinn girl.. intrigues her. It baffles her mind, that she's met someone who all of a sudden becomes her sole desire. She's mysterious. And there's nothing that _annoys_ Rachel more than finding something that she can't understand so easily.

* * *

_Author's Note: Each chapter is getting shorter and shorter. Though it's kind of a 'more is less and less is more' thing. I started this story with an omniscient point of view, so it probably confuses you because this chapter mostly came from Rachel's. I'll just clear things up in the next chapters like why is Quinn acting like that or what's with the conversation with Santana. __Tell me what you think, please! I won't be using this to force you into reviewing, but reviews really help me think of what to do next. It shows me how you guys understand what I'm writing. __Are you getting confused with where I'm taking this story? If so, well that's my goal. Lol, just kidding. That's just my excuse for being an awful writer. Thank you for reading this long Author's Note, btw! _**Classes resume tomorrow for me, so I won't be able to update as fast as I did in these first three chapters. *edited August 21**


	4. four: why are you doing this anyway

four: why are you doing this anyway

* * *

_Unfortunately, reality doesn't come with a manual._

* * *

The first thing that Rachel hears this morning, unlike yesterday's loud music, are some really loud knock on her door.

"Hey, wake up!" Quinn shouts as possibly loud as she can, thinking of how deep of a sleeper Rachel is and how it should be annoying instead of cute.

Rachel, however, doesn't find Quinn's morning interruptions anything close to being _cute_. She tries to ignore the loud banging and relentless shouts coming from the other side of the door. But Quinn is nothing but determined to wake the tiny brunette.

Only half awake, Rachel stands up from her bed and then walks to open the door while mumbling grumpily, "Is there a fire? Because I'm fire-proof, I can go back to sleep now."

Words gets caught up in Quinn's throat once she's able to fully take in what Rachel's wearing. Correction: _barely wearing._ A tank top and some really short shorts barely covering her petite body. And she's not even wearing a bra. _Great._

Quinn slowly pulls her gaze away from Rachel's chest, to her eyes, and then tries to speak as collectedly as she can, "Hey. Good morning."

"What's going on?" Rachel mumbles as she rubs her eyes, hardly trying to wake herself up.

"Get dressed." Quinn instructs.

"What?" Rachel asks, suddenly conscious. "Why?

"You'll see." Quinn just smirks, not giving off any hint. "Oh, and try not to wear anything that says I Love New York or something, okay?"

A handful minutes of stumbling, trying to get properly dressed, and Rachel's standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room as she waits for Quinn to actually tell her what the hell is happening. She calls for the blonde who appears to be inside her room. She tries to be patient so she waits some more, finally deciding to sit on the dark leather couch that is very much comfortable. _No wonder Quinn sleeps in here, _she thought. Okay, maybe she's not the most patient person in the world. A couple more minutes passed, a few rumblings inside Quinn's room, and she's this close to barging in that door to ask what is going on. That is before she hears a ringing of a phone.

It's not hers.

She tries to track down where the phone is. She follows the sound and it leads her to the coat rack near the apartment's door. There's only one coat hanging in there and it's not hers. She's nothing but curious on who's calling Quinn, so she sticks her hand in the coat's pocket, and then grasps the phone, only letting her take a glimpse of the flashing number for a few seconds.

A very familiar number, but Rachel can't fully recognize whose it is at the moment. Quinn seems to have come out of nowhere as she worriedly grabs the phone and the coat away from Rachel who's now looking guilty and bewildered.

"Sorry. It's ringing, and I assumed that it's important so – " Rachel tries to explain, but all she receives is the distant look that Quinn gave her yesterday. She's shutting her out. _Not again, no, _Rachel thought, _not when things seems to getting better. "_Quinn." She calls out, almost sounding like she's crying.

The girl standing in front of her takes in a deep breathe, then says, "No, it's fine. It wasn't important anyway." Quinn flashes a smile towards her, and suddenly, everything feels like it's going to be okay. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah." Rachel says in a voice that's close to resignation – like she's ready for whatever is to come.

"Great. Let's go!" Quinn enthusiastically says, dragging Rachel outside of their apartment and out into the streets in no time. And all that Rachel can do is laugh along.

"Seriously, where are you taking me?" Rachel asks as she tries to catch her breathe from the brisk walking they did that started from the inside of the apartment until – well, it hasn't actually ended yet. The pace of their walk is a tad bit faster than what she's used to, but she tries to match Quinn's pace so she doesn't slow down. Quinn slows down though when she notices Rachel's shallow breathing and she heartily laughs.

"Okay, sorry – sorry." Quinn says, starting to walk much slower as she tries to explain. "How To Survive on New York City. First things first, walk at a brisk pace. See all these people?" She asks, pointing to the people walking fastly, going and passing them by. "Many prefer to travel by foot since the traffic in here is just.. it's chaotic. And let me tell you a big don't: Don't ever stop in the middle of the sidewalks. Whatever you need to do, walk over to a shop first. Or just stay away from the crowd for a moment. What are you – are you – is that a _notepad?" _Quinn says with a humourless chuckle, then stops abruptly. Rachel's got a pen and notepad in her hands, and she seems to have taken down everything Quinn has said.

"What happened to rule #3 – never stop in the middle of the sidewalks?" Rachel says judgingly, earning herself a laugh from the blonde. Then they started walking again, briskly this time. "There are really a lot of changes that I need to get used to, huh?"

"Don't worry. With a teacher like me, I say you'll get used to all these in a week tops." Quinn replies with confidence, but then adds, "But there's just some that you might not get used to at all."

"Like what?" The brunette asks as she keeps whatever she's holding inside her bag. She wants to know what's behind Quinn's words.

"Well, it's different for every people. Some would say the noise, or constantly being around too many people all the time. It may also be hard to get used to the idea that you will run into people on bad days that are assholes. Or that you'll possibly completely lose touch with friends or loved ones." Quinn vehemently explains, and Rachel attentively listens. But she can't help her thoughts to run off to where it really wants to go.

"Yeah? But what about you? What's the hardest thing you've needed to get used to?" She really needs to ask it, like there's a part of her that needs to be fed with answers.

If Quinn is startled by the question, she doesn't show it.

"I guess – I – what made _everything_ harder to get used to is the fact that I needed to move on. And it's the mere _thought_ of moving on that made the process much harder." Quinn says coldly, "I guess you wouldn't know anything about that, huh?" Her words are bitter and are pointed towards Rachel who has no idea of what it really meant.

"No – actually, I do." She tries to defend herself, "I called off my wedding _during_ the actual ceremony before I headed here in New York. I –" And she doesn't really know how to continue with that one. She doesn't even feel like she's moving on from that incident; it feels like she's trying to move past something else. She barely remembers Finn: What he looks like, what his voice sounds like, what he makes her feel. It's like she's not moving on from anything at all.

But she doesn't want to say that to Quinn, or at least not right now. She feels like the streets are not really the ideal place to talk about things like these. But – where is, really? It's not like a completely different ambiance would change the meaning of words. A few bottles of alcohol, maybe. But words are words, no matter how or when or where you say it.

Before Rachel could even say something else, she is suddenly being dragged by Quinn inside a bookstore. She didn't even know that they have a bookstore in the neighbourhood. She hears Quinn greet the bookkeeper and she can't help but notice how they seem to know each other quite well. A girl stacking some books greets Quinn as well.

"Look around. I need to buy something first." Quinn says before disappearing into the aisles of books.

Rachel looks around, as Quinn instructs. She's not gone far from the cashier when there's this particular book that catches her attention. It's in the section of donated books, books that once belonged to someone and are now looking for a new home. She takes it in her hands and just stares at its cover. The edges are ragged, the pages are tainted in tan brown signifying its age, and oddly enough, written on the very first page of the book are the words: _To the girl I love_. When she sees that Quinn seems to have found what she's looking for, she goes to the other cashier and buys the book without any second thoughts.

"I bought a map of the city." Quinn says as soon as they're outside. "It's a necessity and I've learned that the hard way. What did you buy?"

"It's a book." Rachel says, there's nothing much she can add to that since that's all she knows.

"Why did you buy another one? You already have so much you haven't read yet." Quinn says in instinct, before she realizes that she shouldn't have.

"How did you know that?" Rachel says as she laughs, looking like she completely missed what should have been suspicious. "And I don't know what's with this book. I don't usually buy books. This.. intrigues me."

"Well, I hope you enjoy it." Quinn just shrugs.

"Where are we going now?" Rachel asks.

"I don't know. Here's the map." Quinn says as she gives Rachel the map of New York City. They stop in the middle of the sidewalk, completely ignoring the third rule, as they look at each other with untainted smiles. "Now, where are _you_ taking me?"

Rachel spreads out the map in front of her, and there's nothing else that Quinn would rather do this very moment than just stare at this girl in awe. Because she's so beautiful like this, her smile reaching up to her ears, looking like she's about to explode in excitement. Because this moment, right here and right now, is exactly what they've pictured them to be five months ago. But here they are, on that very same picture, but in a completely different situation. And Quinn thinks that it's probably that one thing she won't ever get used to.

It's Rachel's turn to drag Quinn to the nearing taxi she thought she hailed but didn't stop in front of them.

"What are you doing?" Quinn asks.

"What do you think it looks like I'm doing? I'm hailing us a cab!" Rachel says as she flails her hands in the air, desperately trying to call for a cab.

"No. Stop. Don't do it like that –" Quinn flails her arms to show Rachel what she looks right now. "You look crazy. Just wave a little bit like this." And just like that, a cab stops in front of them seconds later.

Rachel does her best to look totally unimpressed. She opens the door and they both sit at the back, not giving the taxi driver any chance to refuse.

"To Queens Center, please." Rachel instructs, then says directed to Quinn, "We are going grocery shopping."

* * *

_Author's Note: I am very sorry that it took me so long to update a new chapter. I also apologize for it being so short. Tell me what you think of this chapter. As I can see from some of the reviews, you guys have noticed how it's quite obvious that there's something between Quinn and Rachel from the past. Yes, there is something, but I'm not planning on revealing the truth to Rachel sometime soon, though. Be patient and bear with me, please. Thank you!_


	5. five: looking for scraps

five: looking for scraps

* * *

_But you find none._

* * *

She really needs to get over this tiny crush she has on her roommate.

It's the first thing that comes up on her mind today. In fact, it's the last thing on her mind before she falls asleep too.

Quinn is without a doubt very beautiful. Her hazel eyes can speak to you; can make you fall in love with just a flutter of those long lashes. And her lips – _god – _you'd do anything to have a taste of those enviable lips, would do anything just to taste her porcelain skin. Quinn is mysterious, and anyone would want to unravel her if given a chance– every single inch of her. _It's just a crush_, she thought. But infatuations shouldn't make you want to hold someone's hands so badly, make you want to be near them all the time, or make you _feel_ this much.

She settles with calling it _mere_ fondness.

She needs to get over it because she knows that it'll ruin her in the end. Quinn is still in love with someone, or at least that's what she's heard last night. Quinn has not really told her anything personal yet. Maybe she's just not the kind of girl that feels comfortable with that, but Rachel's been talking for hours about herself last night while Quinn just sat there, nodding along in every right moment like on cue. And although some would say that Rachel would enjoy opportunities like those - being the self-absorbed diva that she is, she somehow thinks that talking about herself is not really worth missing the opportunities of getting to know this girl, Quinn. So when Quinn finally answered the relentless call from the same number that's rang her phone fifteen times that day – yes, she counted – she can't help but be inquisitive.

Once Quinn closed the door to her room, Rachel quickly followed to stand in front of the door and ponder like it's a gamble between life and death. Should she listen, or not? She knows that it's wrong to nose round in people's conversations, but she's really desperate to know at least _something_ about this girl.

She placed her ear close to the surface for a second, before thinking better of it and how Quinn could easily catch her in this compromising position. So she just hovered in front of it for minutes, slowly walking past the door then going back the other direction, never really leaving the hallway. She could easily be just passing by if ever Quinn opened the door to catch her snooping.

There's nothing much she can hear, actually. She can faintly hear what Quinn's saying. She seemed to be apologizing. For what? That Rachel had no idea of.

_ "I'm sorry, okay. It's not like I planned for this to – no, of course I didn't!" Quinn's pacing inside her room in restlessness. She really can't have this conversation right now, not with Rachel just rooms away. She can't risk that._

_ "Sure you didn't." She heard the girl on the phone reply sarcastically. "Tell me the truth, Q. You at least owe me that much for leaving us without any explanation! Hell, why didn't you even call? Did you actually think that you can just do that to the people that.. loved you and cared for you? We were your friends, goddammit. We still are. But you need to talk to us, blondie, or else fifty years from now you'll be old with no friends to do knitting with and shit." She hears through the phone, and it made her cringe at the memory of that mistake she's done. She can't take that back, and she doesn't really know if she can do something to make it all better._

_ "I know." She replies much calmer. "And I'm sorry, really, really sorry. I don't want it to be this way anymore. I – I miss you so much. I want to make things right, now. And I just need you to be there for me, to help me make it all right." Quinn said, and she meant every word of it. _

_ "I know, of course you need me. But I haven't fully forgiven you yet so you'll need to do something grand for us the next time we see each other, okay" They were words but they were enough to make her think that it'll somehow be alright, that she's forgiven – partially, that is. "Now, tell me what the fuck is happening."_

_ "I can't – I can't talk to you about this right now. She's just rooms away and I don't know what to do if she figures everything right now. For all I know, she could be standing in front of my door with her ears pressed against it. Eavesdropping is really her thing." Quinn said it in the quietest she can. She's probably right. Knowing Rachel, she's probably snooping right now on their conversation._

_ "Whatever you say. But I need to know one thing, Quinn. Do you still love her?" Quinn faltered in her pace, feeling the tears close to falling once again. It wasn't really hard to answer; it's just that the words were hard to say right now. Because the very girl that she wants to say it to is just meters away from her, and she probably can hear it – she just won't know that it's for her._

What's heard from the other side of the door is very much different from what the conversation really is, but Rachel did not know that. She believed that it's pretty clear that Quinn wanted to get back together with whoever she's talking to.

"And I'm sorry, really, really sorry. I don't want it to be this way anymore. I – I miss you so much. I want to make things right now. And I need you to be there for me, to help me make it all right again." Hearing those words felt like a stab in the heart, and she's never felt anything like that from any crushes she's ever had before. Who is she kidding? She's just a roommate that needed a guide, a role that Quinn gladly took. It's not like it meant anything to Quinn. It's not like she may have possibly felt the same way as Rachel does even just for a second. She's just a friend, a stranger even. Why would she even think that Quinn might like her back?

That's when she decided that she needed to get over this pitiful infatuation she's having on one Quinn Fabray. With the last words she's heard from where she's standing, she became even surer.

"I do. I still do." She heard Quinn say.

There's no room for her in Quinn's heart, because whoever is in there right now is clearly not going anywhere anytime soon.

* * *

_Author's Note: Just wanted to add a little something something. I hope you guys understood what happened here. Tell me if you got confused or what you thought about this very very short chapter. Hopefully, I'll be able to upload a longer chapter this weekend. Please drop in a review. Thank you! And sorry for all the mistakes you'll see in this story, btw. _


	6. six: instead you find a perfect fabric

six: instead you find a perfect fabric

* * *

_Unlike me that's already been cut, bruised, and thrown away._

* * *

Days have gone and passed and they're still walking on their own separate bubbles, afraid to get too close to the other or else that invisible bubble might pop. Every single day for the five days that's passed, they're both waken up by the same loud speakers that is Quinn's alarm, and at the end of each day, Rachel finds herself singing to the tune of that same untitled song. That is, until she figures that it's time for her to ask Quinn what the title of that song is or at least try to make a casual conversation after hours of tireless grocery shopping.

They're back to their apartment with six bags of full of stuff they think they need, and less of what they really do. Normal shopping shouldn't be this tiring, right? Yeah, Quinn thought so too. But not with Rachel freaking Berry. Since she thought that convenience stores are not really convenient for students with their ridiculously high prices, she was able to convince Quinn that they needed gallons of milks, loaves of bread, and a couple dozen of eggs. And also a bunch of other stuff. Quinn hasn't really done proper grocery shopping before. For the three months that she's lived on her own, she just used to pick whatever she thinks she need or want at the moment.

"So, tell me, what are your plans?" Rachel asks as they work together in putting things into its right place.

"For what?" Quinn asks.

"For your life. College. Things like that?" Rachel supplies as she tries to reach for the high cabinet she obviously can't reach.

"Oh, I – don't actually have one." Quinn says.

"What do you mean you don't have one?" The unsuccessful brunette turns around in curiosity.

"It means that I don't. I'm not going to any college this school year. I work in a coffee shop around the corner. And I'm actually working on a piece right now, so – not much plans, really." Quinn answers, and then redirects the question back to Rachel, "What about you?"

"Oh. School starts the day after tomorrow, actually. I'm going to NYADA, dramatic arts." Rachel says like it's the most casual thing to say.

Quinn tries to suppress her emotions and instead pretends to be quite fascinated, then says, "NYADA? I've heard that it's tough to get in to that school. You must be a real talent." She smiles, and Rachel can't help but blush.

"Well, I wasn't called a diva in high school for nothing." Rachel replies, looking smug.

"You should let me hear you sing, sometime. I bet you nailed that audition. What did you sang?" Quinn asks as she takes the last cans of tuna in the cabinet.

"I – I don't really – " .._remember_. It's one of those moments she can't recall. It was probably a bad memory, she figures. Or at least that's how she'd like to think of it, that everything she's forgotten are all bad memories that are better left that way.

"Here, let me help you with that." Quinn snaps Rachel out of her thoughts, as she takes what Rachel is holding. "You don't need to tell me, I was just trying to make a conversation."

"No, it's not that. I – I'd love you tell you things about me or my audition or the books I like or the songs I used to sing, but the things is, I can't remember them." Rachel says distantly, with furrowed brows. It's the first time she'll say this to someone. She turns to face Quinn who's now biting her bottom lip and looking suddenly pale. She leans into the counter for supports, and then says, "I was in a car accident, five months ago. I can barely remember anything."

She sees Quinn nod once, and just moments ago she thought that this girl got all the right words to make anyone swoon. But then maybe it's one of those moments where no words could be right, so it's better to say none at all.

"How – how are you now?" Quinn asks, her voice broken. There's nothing else she wants to do right now but kiss Rachel to make her pain go away. But she can't. Because by leaving, she just made it all complicated.

"I don't really know. But I feel better. I want to be." Rachel says. And Quinn takes a step closer to her, and another one, until there's barely any space between them.

"I'm going to hug you now, okay? Because I want to make you feel better." Quinn says, and then pulls her into a hug. Her arms draped around Rachel's waist tightens as the brunette's head rests on her chest, and it's enough for Quinn to ignore the feeling at the pit of her stomach or the fast beating of her heart that screams 'run' – run before she still can.

But she won't - not again.

* * *

Rachel's first day of college was hell. She missed the bus that's supposed to bring her to NYADA fifteen minutes early so that she'll have time to roam around. Instead, she got on the bus that made her fifteen minutes late. And not to mention that the bus dropped her three blocks away from the school's gate, forcing her to walk through the busy crowd of New Yorkers. Meeting her professors and instructors didn't really help to make her day any better. She misses Kurt so much too, and eating her lunch in the park today just felt like a reminder that she is, in fact, alone. The best thing that came out of that day, she thought as she walks back to her apartment, was meeting this junior boy that helped her in finding one of her classes. _Brody Weston. _He's charming, and he seems to be a complete gentleman. He has this smile, which she's only seen once, that can make you forget things like what you're supposed to say. He's in one of her classes, too. He sat beside her - did nothing but sat, actually, throughout the class.

She opens and enters the door to their flat, ready to welcome her comfy bed with open arms and just forget the whole day totally. But she's met by a dark room with no lights on; the only light that she can see is coming from the dining area. Lit candles on the table illuminates half of the place, but she can't see Quinn anywhere so she flicks the lights on, only to see a banner being held by Quinn with the words 'happy first day of college' written in it. And she didn't fail to notice the question mark at the end of that sentence. But what she didn't miss, out of this bizarre and grand gesture coming from her flat mate, is Quinn's shy smile and that faint blush on her cheeks. It's a small but grand, something that she didn't want to try and think too much through. Quinn's a considerate friend that wants to know how her first day of college went. It's a friendly gesture. Friendly. Very friendly.

"Happy first day of college?", Quinn says unsurely, questioning her own motives in agreeing with this crazy idea. Who the hell does this to a "friend" anyway? A dinner with candles lit, expecting that it won't come off as romantic? A surprise with banners and balloons all over the place? It's crazy, alright. But she'll go crazy too, if she hasn't done this. It's what she would have done anyway, if certain things didn't happen and things have gone according to plan – that is, five months ago.

"Quinn.." Rachel replies, unsure of how to react, what to say, and what to do. Should she hug her? Or kiss her – like how she's been fantasizing for days now? A friendly kiss. _Sure._

"Just thought that we should celebrate, you know? As friends?" Quinn tries to defend herself quickly. "How was it?"

"Terrific! I mean, it's great, wonderful, fantastic, _lovely_." .._like you, _is what she should have added. "NYADA's.. terrific."

"Oh god, it's horrible, isn't it?" Quinn says, suddenly feeling pitiful as she sets aside the banner she's been holding and walks towards Rachel.

"Yeah." Rachel admits. "This is wonderful, though."

They stand there, a handful of inches apart, feeling shivers run through their skins. It's electric, like they're drawn to each other like opposite poles that uncontrollably attracts. And they're not even touching.

It is maddening, how Rachel can't find the courage to tell or show how she feels towards this _girl_ she's been crushing on since the first day she's seen her. So she tries to calm herself by trying to make a conversation, "I'm surprised, really. This is like.. wow."

"Really? Describe it to me."

"It's just that.. It's like something that my friend, Kurt, would do." Rachel smiles, suddenly remembering Kurt and how much she misses him.

"Well.." Quinn starts, "This is _his_ idea, actually."

And just when Rachel thought that this day couldn't get any crazier, a person that looks incredibly like Kurt Hummel appears behind Quinn. It is, in fact, Kurt Hummel, because no one can and will ever be able to duplicate his fashionable taste and look.

"Oh. My. God. Kurt?" Rachel asks gaping.

Everything is surreal, and a loud squeal coming from the fashionable man is enough to make her belief that it is her best friend standing in the middle of her apartment. She runs – or more accurately, _leaps – _towards him, and hugs him like it's been years that she's seen him last. Kurt is here in New York, ready to run and take over this _fucking_ city with her. What more could she ask for?

The three of them sat in the dining area, trying to mask the awkwardness of the situation. Kurt and Rachel's been bantering about the latest happenings in Lima, and Quinn's sitting there trying to look totally intrigued – because she really is, although she's not _supposed _to be, or at least not in front of Rachel. Sometime in the middle of their conversation, Rachel's phone rings. She excuses herself and walks to the other room, leaving Quinn and Kurt to their own.

"Thank you for being here." Quinn says, or repeats. She's been saying how thankful she is for Kurt the moment he's arrived hours ago.

"Like I told you, I was planning on going anyway. Besides, it's you I should be thanking. I know that me staying here at the moment will be a lot of trouble for both of you since there's only like two rooms." Kurt says.

"I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't come. Everything's just so.. complicated, you know?" Quinn says distantly.

Kurt grasps her hand and squeezes it, "_You_ can make it not complicated. You just have to say the truth."

"You know that it's not that simple, Kurt." Quinn whispers.

"I know, I know." Kurt says as he retreats his hands and then clasps his own. "But you do know, too, that you need to do something before it's all too late, right? Before everything gets even more complicated."

Before Quinn could even reply, Rachel arrives with a big dopey smile on her face. And it made Quinn almost sick to her stomach because she knows that look. It's the look Rachel has when she first asked her out on a date. "I'm sorry for that," Rachel says, tucking away strands of her hair behind her ears.

"So remind me who this Brody guy is again?" Kurt asks, darting his eyes towards Quinn who's looking the other way, pretending not to hear.

"Oh just a guy," Rachel heartily laughs, and it just breaks Quinn's heart into a million pieces more, "A guy who has just asked me out on a date tomorrow night."

And then there's silence instead of excitement that Kurt tries to fill in, "So what'd you say?"

"I said sure. I mean, he invited me to watch an off-Broadway show where he's starring. Didn't you hear the Broadway part or-?" Rachel says.

"Wow!" Kurt supplies, acting completely enthusiastic all of a sudden. "That's great, Rachel. I mean, it's just a date, right? Nothing serious?"

"Well.."

"What?! Do you like him like that?"

"Kind of."

* * *

_Author's Note: I am very sorry for the very long wait (yeah, like anyone's waiting). I've been so busy, and it appears that I need to be intoxicated in order to continue writing this chapter. I am at lost, maybe reviews could help me get back on track? I don't even know if there's anyone out there that's still wanting for me to continue this. Review, please! I very much need it. I need to know what I'm doing wrong in order to improve my writing. Next chapter coming very soon! That's a promise I'm not going to break._


	7. seven: but i want you

seven: but i want you

* * *

_And I want you to want me too._

* * *

It's hard to find courage to fight for the one you love when she's out there having a date with someone that's not you. Just as hard as telling her the truth, Quinn thought. But there's really not much she can do _right now_. So she eats dinner alone instead, all the while thinking of how Rachel's date is going. She washes her own dishes, wondering if Rachel let that guy hold her hand. She sits on the couch, thinking if he'll try to kiss her, and if she'll kiss him back.

It's exactly 7:12 pm on their apartment's wall clock. She's slumps her body like dead weight and rapidly scans the channels, looking for a getaway from her thoughts. She ends up watching a singing contest that lead her thoughts back to Rachel Berry and how she could beat all those contestants the very instance she opens her mouth and belts a note. She flicks the remote to another channel, which is apparently playing Hairspray, a musical, which lead her to another Rachel-Berry-related thought.

Flick. _New Yooork, concrete jungle where dreams are made of.. _Flick. _This argyle clothe would fit perfectly on your quirky personality, for only ten dollars.. _Flick. _Barbara Streisand was born on a.. _Flick. _This little tiger cub was found by our animal helpers five years ago on a .. _(Finally!)_ .. they named her Rachel._

Fuck. My. Life.

She turns the television off with a groan. She lies on the couch facing the ceiling, phone on her hands. She wants to type anything, _anything_, for the brunette. How aboutask her to go home now because that guy's a douche that'll probably just hurt you in the end? Or maybe a confession of how much she likes her? Or just the plain truth that she still loves her and that she's sorry for leaving her while she's in the hospital because she's too much of a coward?

Quinn's never hated herself as much than she hates herself right now for letting things get so messed up in the first place. She wants to go back to how it used to be, much different from how she felt before where she wanted to go away and escape the reality. So she closes her eyes, wills for the tears to stop from pouring, and lulls herself to sleep.

Minutes of blankness, numbness, and darkness, and she finds herself lost in the memory of that day she so badly wants to do all over if given a chance. It's that day that made everything change.

_She hears her melodious laugh – it's contagious, intoxicating, exhilarating. She knows that she won't be able to drive properly with this tiny brunette sitting fondly in her passenger's seat distracting her, her two hands settled on her lap, and her smile shining intensely towards her. And even now, she still can't believe how breathtaking Rachel is at that very moment. How she looks like she could take over the world. _

_Quinn felt foolish to believe that that moment could possibly last a lifetime._

_"Where have you been, just now?" She hears Rachel ask, her tiny hand crawling towards Quinn's sweaty one._

_"The same it always goes: To you." She grasps Rachel's hand fully before it even reaches hers, and intertwines it._

_"Don't you find it, this, magnificent?" Rachel asks, holding their intertwined hands up in the small gap between their bodies. "How the spaces between your fingers were created so that mine could fit in between them?"_

_She looks at it through hazy eyes, tears taunting to fall. She tries to laugh it off. "Yeah. It'd be weird if my hands don't have spaces, right?" She smiles playfully, and Rachel gets it. Rachel gets it when Quinn's like this, when she doesn't let her emotions get through that wall she's built around her heart._

_Rachel nudges her teasingly, and when she's about to let go of their hands, Quinn pulls her close – closer. Then kisses her softly, like her lips touches an angel's feather. It was heaven, until it was hell._

She wakes up with a familiar voice calling out her name. It sounds so close, so close like that dream haunts her even in her wake. She feels a dip on the couch and another body pressing against hers. She feels two fragile hands holding onto both her shoulders, shaking her to stir. And when she opens her eyes, she sees the same girl in her dreams, but she looks different. In her dreams she's smiling, but the girl she's seeing right now is full of fear, sadness, and worry.

"Rachel.." Quinn says, grasping both of Rachel's hands with hers. Then she realizes that it's the first time for months that she's able to hold these same hands again, forgetting whether another has held it merely minutes ago.

"You we're crying in your sleep," she hears Rachel say in an unsteady voice, "and you were trembling." Hearing her voice makes Quinn tighten her grip. Because she's afraid that this might just be another part of her dream - another nightmare if taken away.

"I'm okay now. You're here." Quinn whispers faintly but still loud enough for Rachel to hear. She lets go of one hand, and with it she cradles the brunette's face in which she leans onto like it's magnetic - her thumb tracing Rachel's cheek, wiping away an astray tear. Her other hand intertwines with Rachel's, just like in her dream.

Quinn props herself up on one elbow, her lips now dangerously close from Rachel's. She doesn't miss the way Rachel's brown eyes dilate. Quinn holds their intertwined hands between them, and then says reminiscently, "Someone once told me how magnificent it is that there are spaces between our fingers so another's could fill them in. And it's only just now that I've truly understood it."

Rachel feels like she can finally see Quinn unravel. But Quinn's not unravelling herself, no; she's shattering and breaking. And these wreckages are falling. It can bury Rachel alive and suffocate her, but Rachel doesn't know that. She's wanted Quinn to disentangle, unknowing of its consequences. "I – I don't know what to say, Quinn." Rachel says as she stares at their clasped hands and then moves to gaze at Quinn's intense eyes.

"Then don't." Quinn says with submission. And with that, she leans slowly, her eyes never leaving Rachel's plump lips. Her mouth opens a tiny fraction to gasp, at the very same time as Rachel does. Their lips are so incredibly close that it physically hurts, and for a fraction of a second Quinn's afraid - much like how she's always been. She's afraid of rejection, of being hurt, of giving this girl the power to completely ruin her – again. She's afraid, but she doesn't want to be anymore. So she leans in fully, finally letting her lips touch Rachel's – it was soft, it was a spark that'll soon start a fire.

Rachel backs away just an inch but Quinn doesn't let go, instead she kisses her harder. "Please, Rachel, I – I need this," she whispers begging. She kisses her again, and again, and again – each kiss more passionate than the last. But Rachel sits still, unmoving. "Please, kiss me back," Quinn begs once more, her voice trembling with her body, "please."

The kisses in between Quinn's begging and words pushed Rachel to the brink of giving in. "Okay," Rachel breathes. And finally, she pushes back with the same pressure given when Quinn's lips met hers again.

Their kisses are hungry, full of unspoken love and desire. Neither wants to let go of their intertwined hands, so Rachel uses her other hand to hold onto Quinn's neck as their kisses gets greedier. A low moan escapes Rachel's throat when Quinn teases her tongue inside Rachel's mouth. And with one swift move, Quinn lays Rachel down on the couch, effectively reversing their position with Quinn now on top.

Rachel moans softly again, kissing back to the best of her ability. Seconds later and she feels Quinn's wet tongue slide back between her lips. She greets it with her own tongue; the feeling of her moist breath in her mouth is overwhelming her. Her heart beats rapidly, and for a second, her mind wonders if Quinn's feeling the same too – the same butterflies in her stomach, the same need, the same want. Tongues rub against each other in few languid strokes where Rachel finds herself responding immediately, surprising even herself. Quinn's mouth is so warm, the caress of her lips softer than she imagined.

Rachel's hiked up shirt taunts Quinn. She so badly wants to touch but everything still feels like new grounds and she's still relearning it all. She creeps her hand to the brunette's waist and caresses skin with her thumb, making Rachel gasp for air and arc her back towards the blonde. Quinn kisses the gap just in between Rachel's ear and the edge of her jaw, down to the point where her neck and shoulder meet. Her hand inching higher and higher – touching, caressing, and scraping every inch of the tiny girl's body. She's everywhere but never really where Rachel wants her the most. And when her thumb brushes the underside of Rachel's breast, they both know that very instant that they've lost all sense of control.

That is, before the doorbell rang, signifying Kurt's arrival.

"Shit," Quinn mumbles as she hurriedly pushes herself off the brunette like she's being burned. "That's – that's Kurt. Good thing I didn't give him a spare key." She's standing awkwardly as she ogles Rachel's appearance, how ravished she looks. "I should - I'll open it."

"Yeah.. you.. do that. I – I'll go to my room." Rachel says hazily, like she's still on high and she's taking her sweet time falling back down.

She won't be touching the ground any time soon tonight, though, and Quinn's making sure of that.

* * *

_Author's Note: I'm sorry. All the faults you'll see in here are mine. I'm so nervous about this chapter. Are you guys somehow disappointed? Please review. Tell me how you feel about this._

_Comment responses: Brody's a necessity. Quinn wouldn't have done something if he hadn't come along. Maybe he's out of the picture for now, but he'll be around. As for Quinn, well, she's starting to be braver. She's starting to pick the pieces she's left along the way, but not all. We'll see how that can affect everything in the future. _


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